


A Dragon's Hoard

by FoxBane11



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Frerin, Baby Fíli and Kíli, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Blue Mountains | Ered Luin, Dragon/Frerin Romance, Dragons, Erebor, F/M, Female Bilbo, Frerin Lives, Frerin is Her Hoard, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-The Hobbit, Soul Bond, Tortured Frerin, dragon rider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:38:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6767167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxBane11/pseuds/FoxBane11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frerin is dying, bleeding out right there in the deep darkness of Moria, except.......someone decides that he makes a perfectly Golden Treasure, even as broken as he was. Hidden since her hatching, kept chained and captive in the caverns of Moria, Salanth decides that this new little creature was a perfectly perfect Treasure, and he wasn't going to die, for she had commanded it otherwise. As Frerin wakes and is horrified to discovery himself Soul Bond to a dragon, Salanth decides that the deep dark of Moria is certainly not the best back drop for her Little Golden Creature, and she sets about figuring out a way to fix that. After all, her Hoard had to be perfect, and he certainly didn't look perfect with that disgruntled frown on his little face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salanth's Golden Creature

 

 

  After they were done with him, Frerin felt as though he were swimming in agony. His body hung limp in their hands as they drug him down the rocky path, down, down, down into the deep. His mind felt fuzzy and far away, as though he were watching from a distance, riding waves of the most intense pain he'd ever felt. He wasn't sure where they were taking him but he knew he wouldn't be with the world long. He was bleeding out, of that he was in no doubt. The trail of blood he left behind was both wide and thick.

   Bolg had been thorough in the breaking of him. At least the breaking of his body. His mind was still distressingly clear. Both of his legs were broken, twisted beyond repair and dragging over every jolting rock and bump. If he looked he knew he'd see the gleam of bone through torn skin. All ten of his fingers were similarly broken, twisted into misshapen lumps on his hands. His right ring finger was completely gone, twisted and torn and pulled from his hand brutally. His back was a raging fire, his skin stripped from him. His beard had been pulled from him by the roots and his hair shorn close to his head. Truly he was in a pitiful state.

   His head lolled weakly on his neck and Frerin closed his eyes, wishing the pain would stop. He felt warped and twisted with it, his mind flinching from the world. Thoughts swam through his head but never stayed, flitting away like a bird with no cage. There was only the agony and the harsh growling hiss of the Black Speech above his head.

    “ _ **Bolg wants 'im staked real close, where he's can't gets away.”**_ The smaller of the orcs hissed, tightening his clawed fingers around Frerin's arm. The pin pricks of his claws were only a drop in a bucket of pain.

    “ _ **Thinks she'll try an' eat 'im up?”**_ The second asked with a wicked cackled, his face particularly ugly, with a bleeding slash across his cheek. He'd been the one to capture Frerin and bring him to Bolg. _**“Didn' feed her this week, too busy wi' the fightin'”**_

   “ _ **Got plen'y bodies ta feed her now. Best drag down somma the wargs bodies, Bolg don' want her ta eat him righ' away. Wants him ta suffer a little longer.”**_ The first said with a hawking sound and spat.

   “ _ **Bolg done a good one on 'im, he won' last but a day down here, 'swhat I say.”**_ The second replied, spitting over the side of the path as well. 

   Frerin stopped listening after that. He couldn't stand the hissing growl of the Black Speech. It made his insides squirm with discomfort and dread join his agony. Unfortunately, no longer focusing on anything, he lost his tenuous grasp on consciousness. He slid with profound relief into the black, where he felt no pain, at least for a time.

 

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   Salanth opened her eyes as the filthy creatures entered her cavern, her lips pulling up over her razor sharp teeth. How she hated the filthy little Black Ones, with their rank rotting smell and their ugly biting chains. How she wished she could bite them, crunch them between her fangs and spit them out, broken and bleeding.

   A rumbling growl echoed from deep in her chest, making not a sound but making the very air in the cavern vibrate. She was rewarded as their fear turned the air sour. She perhaps could not eat them now, but she could make them fear, and that was something. It did not stop them from skulking over to the very device she loathed more than anything.

  A plume of scalding smoke rose from her nostrils but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop them. She was weak, too weak to escape this indignity. And that stung worse than an bite or blade.

   The Filthy Black Ones began to turn the large wheel near the entrance and Salanth hissed as the chains, vile barbed creations with thick unbreakable links, began to tighten around her long neck. She'd been here long enough in this stinking hole to know better than to struggle. If she did the barbs dug deep, and she'd already nearly lost a scale. With a snarl she lowered her neck to the stone floor and the chains tightened over her. This would prevent her from moving everything but her head and the very top most part of her neck. If they'd used the smaller wheel, it would have prevented her from moving at all. 

  “ _ **Gots a friend for ya, lizard.”**_ The larger Filthy One hissed at her, his tone mocking. She would remember the tone, the next time he let his guard down.  _ **“Jus' don' eat 'im too quick.”** _ He laughed, the very sound grating on every one of her nerves.

  “ _ **Best watch yer tone, piss fer brains.”**_ The smaller one said, proving his superior intelligence. He was watching her warily and stayed beyond the red mark on the floor, despite the chains binding her down. But then, he'd been in charge of feeding her longer than most, he knew to be cautious and respectful.  _ **“She'll snap ya up when ya least expect.”** _

  “ _ **What can she do? She's chained up tight.”**_ The larger one dismissed arrogantly, spitting in her direction. Which only sealed his fate. Her eyes burned with rage.

  She watched as they left the cavern, only to return moments later, dragging something inside. Salanth's attention caught and sharpened on the figure, which she realized immediately was not a Filthy One at all, rather something else entirely. Red blood trailed after the broken being, not black like the Slimy Ones. She felt an unexpected pain in her heart as she realized that this little being was dying. The Filthy Ones had broken his fragile little body. What of his Mind? His Spirit? Was it broken too?

  Keeping one eye focused on them she watched as the Black Ones drug the little one closer, almost into the curve of her long neck. They dropped him carelessly and Salanth let out another angry plume of smoke. The large one ignored her but the little one cast her a wary glance as she turned her head just slightly to survey them closer.

  She watched with one great eye as the larger one drove a heavy metal spike into the very stone of the floor and then the smaller one attached a thick chain. He hooked one end to the spike and the other to the little ones ankle. Ah, so he was to be a prisoner here. No doubt to leave in terror of her until he died from his wounds.

  “ _ **There now, ya got yerself ah little pet.”**_ The large one jeered, brave enough to pat her neck. Her answering growl was thunderous, sending the two Filthy Ones scrambling over themselves to escape her snapping teeth. She couldn't have reached them, but none the less the unexpectedness of the mock attack worked in her favor. She could smell the piss from the large one, a heavy acrid scent that made her grin at him sharply as she settled back into stillness.

   The smaller one cackled, mocking his larger companion as he turned the vile wheel to loosen the chains.  _ **“I told ya ta watch her, didn' I? Pissed yerself! Fucking cowardly dog!”** _ He sneered, fast enough to scramble out of the larger ones reach when he lunged for him. He was gone in a flash, back out of the cavern, his larger companion right behind, leaving a streak of cursing in his wake. 

  Salanth snorted, trying to erase the stink of the Filth from her nose. But of course that never worked, the very air down here was permeated with the stench. It would never leave. She'd never smelled anything NOT covered in the foul stench of the Black Ones.

  Raising her head, her neck now free, Salanth studied this new being. Whatever he was, he was very close to death. She could smell the acrid sent of death hovering over him even as she looked him over. Bending down she breathed in his scent thoroughly, her sensitive nose picking up minuscule details even as she studied him with one great blue eye. Underneath the blood and scent of pain he smelled like dirt and green things. Rich. Strong. Like the very earth. So he must have come from outside this accursed place, outside where she'd never been before. Her interest rose sharply at the very idea.

   Tilting her head she focused one eye on him, studying every facet of her new companion. As all her race she could see extremely well and she used that vast ability to study this new creature. He was quite ugly now, she had to admit, covered in filth and blood as he was. But she could see the potential, even unfamiliar as she was with his race and what he himself might consider attractive. He was broader than the Foul Ones, his shoulders wide and his body stout and no doubt strong. His clothing was in tattered, leaving his body on clear display and she thought his muscles would be considered well formed. Both of his hands were callused as though from swords. His hair was cut in ugly uneven spikes about his head but the color was rich and golden, even matted with dirt. She imagined it was even better when it was clean and smelled like him instead of the Filth. She could see even more of the length had pull pulled from his face, several ragged strands still left. Odd, that he should grow hair there, but from the little left she could tell it too had been a rich burnished gold. How charming!

  Humming low in her throat she turned her eye towards other things. His body truly was ravaged. His legs, so little as it was, were snapped like little sticks and his arm and fingers were no better. He was leaking blood in an ever widening puddle, most coming from his maimed back, which was pressed again the stone floor.

  “ _Wake, little creature.”_ She commanded imperiously, eyeing the being with one massive blue eye. Her jaws made no motion even as the words rang in the air.  _ “I would speak with you.” _

  She was rewarded as a weak moan came from the creatures throat, the sound speaking of agony. She would help him, but she first must have his consent. With a creature such as she, consent was the most powerful thing of all, and she did not have the power to help him without it.

  
  


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  Frerin woke with a shiver and then whimpered as the pain crashed into him like a tidal wave. It seemed better now, perhaps because of the cool pressure against his mutilated back. But better was still the most agonizing feeling he'd ever felt in his close to fifty years.

   Shifting Frerin cried out, his back arching involuntarily as the pain lanced through him like boiling water. His entire body ached and  _ burned _ as he'd never experienced before. Every part of him seemed to sing with the pain surging through him. He tried to gather his thoughts, which tried to scatter and disappear as the pain grew. Gritting his teeth he tried to think of something, anything to keep him anchored.

  He was going to die. He knew it. He could feel it lingering like a malevolent shadow over his mind. His thoughts were faint and distant, as though from so very very far away. To die in such a place as this, spit on by the Orc scum, made bitterness rise in his throat. Despite that Frerin found he couldn't muster the will to fight the shadow away.

  “ _You must wake, new creature.”_ A voice called. It was the most peculiar voice Frerin had ever hear. Like dozens of wind chimes sounding together, and the leaves rustling in the trees, and the water babbling in the rivers and the bird calls in the sky. It made his mind jolt, the shadow shrinking away from it.  _ “Do not let your broken body defeat your will, Gold Thing.” _ The voice commanded.

  Frerin swallowed, his spirit obeying the voice instinctively, and tried to pry his eyes open. It took a moment, one eye was swollen and sensitive. Blinking hazily he stared up into a sea of the most brilliant blue he'd ever seen.

  His mind was too shattered to realize exactly what he was looking at but he thought it was perhaps the most beautiful color he'd ever seen. Grays blended perfectly around a thin line of black and the blue darkened into navy around the edges. It reminded him of the sky in all its facets of blue. Eyes half lidded with delirium he gaped up into it, deciding that perhaps this wasn't such a bad way to die, staring up into something so beautiful.

  “ _Good. I would be disappointed had you failed.”_ The voice said with a sniff. There was a sudden breeze that blew over Frerin's face and the thin line of black in the brilliant blue expanded into a wide slit.  _ “Do you want to live, Golden Creature?” _

   Frerin blinked and it took him a ridiculously long time to realize that the voice must mean him. He was sure he didn't look so golden anymore, not with his hair matted and shorn and his beard gone but the words sent an unexpected rush of warmth through him. The sea of pain he'd been swimming in seemed somehow distant now, as though gazing into the blue depths was someone keeping it at bay. It was only because of this that he was able to gather his wits at all and answer.

  “I.......I want to live......and breath.......free air.” He said after a long pause to organize his words. Despite the buffer from his pain he still felt as though in a fog. Barely there. Hanging on to his life by a brilliant blue thread.

  “ _Then tell me your name, little creature, and I shall sing you back to life. You shall heal in my shadow and under my breath. I will lay claim to you and slay the shadow of death from your mind. You have to but give me your name.”_ The voice said and Frerin decided then that the voice had a decidedly feminine sound to it. And after all, only a female would assume to lay claim to a soul and think they could defeat death. 

  “My name is.......Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.” He told her. This took even longer, as he had to dredge through his mind to find the memory of his name. He knew this should alarm him, but it didn't, so entranced was he by the blue sea above him.

  “ _Excellent. You will live, for I demand that you do so. My name is Salanth Merilcirmaefin and you.......you will be the most beautiful Hoard, Golden One. Others will sigh in envy over the glory that is my Hoard.”_ She told him and Frerin fuzzily tried to make sense of her words but he was already sinking, slipping into a natural sleep this time, guarded closely against the pain. It would be nearly a month later before he realized he'd just given his name to a dragon. Had essentially agreed to become a dragon's hoard.

  
  


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   Salanth was immensely pleased. She'd never had a Hoard before and she found it very pleasing indeed. But then, in this dank vile cavern, she'd never before come across anything of enough value to be Hoarded. Or she supposed  _ anyone _ would be more accurate. For her instincts did not call to gold or jewels, but instead to living beings. And down in the deep as she was, she'd only ever seen the Filthy Ones before and she would  _ **never** _ choose one of them as her Hoard. 

   Not that they hadn't tried. They knew she was a Soul Seeker, how they knew she wasn't sure, but they'd known before she'd even hatched from her egg. They'd tried to use force, of course they had, but Salanth was not a lizard, she would not be  _ **forced.** _ They'd tried to use magic trickery, the Filth's leader in his snow white robes, had tried to trick her into Hoarding an Unworthy. But Salanth was descended from the very first and greatest and she would not be tricked. She wasn't sure how they'd gotten her egg in the first place but she was determined that she would be no benefit to them. 

  With a hot huff she turned her attention back to the delightful treasure the Filth had brought her. She would have to drain her stores to heal him, stores of energy and power she'd been saving for near a century. But it would be worth it in the end. A dragon was nothing without a Hoard after all, and now the Filth had so thoughtfully provided her with one. Her power would gather much faster now, once the Golden One was healthy again. But first she had to make him healthy.

  Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. She focused sharply on the name, letting a hum begin to build deep in her chest. She must think of nothing else but her Golden Creature. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. The hum began to come from her throat as her power and energy latched onto the name with sharp claws. Her instinct approved of this Treasure. Frerin. Frerin. Son of Thrain who was son of Thror. Frerin. Frerin. The air was beginning to vibrate, the temperature jumped by a dozen degrees, her energy, her very being beginning to charge the cavern. She had to get this just right, if she did not then her energy, instead of protecting the Golden One as the Hoard, would attempt to rip him asunder. And she could not have that.

  Finally, when her chest was shaking with the force of her power, Salanth opened her jaws wide, eyes turned and locked on her Golden Being. Frerin. Frerin. Frerin. A sound like a thousand chimes came from her mouth, a high pitched whine and rumble behind it. Nearly, nearly. She thought on the jewel blue that had been his eyes and the golden richness that was his hair. She thought on his charming face hair and his broad shoulders. She thought on the awe in his eyes as he stared up into her eye. Frerin. Frerin. She thought on his bravery, at facing his pain to awaken when she commanded. She thought on the thud of her heart as she realized he thought her eyes beautiful, and the matching thud of his own heart as he looked at her. She thought on all of this, concentrating so hard she could think of nothing else. Then and only then did she release the breath she'd been holding.

  The gust of her breath fell over him and Salanth felt the claws of her spirit sink into him immediately, hooking his soul and drawing it close, close, close until it snapped together with her own. Her entire body shuddered as her power began to drain, Frerin's body like a funnel as it soaked up her energy. His tiny body convulsed, but Salanth continued to pour herself into him until their was nothing left for her to give. Until every last drop of her soul had fallen into him. She felt so weak she could only hold her head up through sheer stubborn force, her eyes locked on him.

  Then she began to pull in return. With a shuddering gasp, her great sides heaving, Salanth began to to draw in a breath. And then she could taste him. Could taste his very spirit as his soul began to slide into her. He tasted of things she'd never seen or felt before. The rich warm glow of him lit her whole being as she drew him in. Her Instincts screamed in delight, bathing in the fine heat from his being. She drew and drew and drew until she could feel him in every corner of her being and only then did she allow the energy to begin fading. Only then did she allow his soul to partially leave her and accept a part of her own in return.

  Biting her tongue until it bled, Salanth leaned close over the sleeping creature. Wrapping her long tongue around him gently, she allowed her blood to soak into his wounds, and took some of his blood in return. The blood would act as an anchor, tethering her to him and him to her. It would never be broken now, not by anything except death. And Salanth would all in her power to make sure that didn't happen.

  Drawing back, Salanth blinked her eyes in the dark of the cavern. She wished she could curl around him, to protect him and keep him close and warm. But the chains forbid all but the smallest motions. As was a common occurrence here in this vile place, Salanth snarled as a surge of hate pierced her heart. What she would not give for the chance to kill them all.

  Her body feeling weaker than she'd felt in a long time, she settled herself as close to her Treasure as she possibly could. If this meant that her neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle than so be it. As she allowed her mind and spirit to settle, preparing for sleep, she sleepily watched her Treasure's each and every slow breath. He would heal, her magic would ensure that it was done, and now it was time to sleep and recover herself.

  
  


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AN: So, that's the first chapter. I hope you guys liked it. I had the idea while I was reading Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves, which is an awesome fanfic. I highly recommend you read it. This will be a pretty long story in the end if I have anything to say about it. I'd like to eventually lead it right into The Hobbit movies, which will turn it into a shameless fix it, because there is NO WAY that Thorin, Kili, and Fili should have died. NO WAY.

So.....yeah, hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Of Gems And Dragons

Frerin laid blinking into the darkness for several long minutes, his mind a fog, before he realized he was awake and not dead. Exhaustion pulled at his eyes and made his thoughts dull, his entire body aching with his weariness. He felt as though he could sleep for an entire year and still ache with this all encompassing exhaustion. But he fought the temptation to close his eyes, instead narrowing them at the far off ceiling. He shifted, preparing to sit up, before he realized that something was wrong. Or something that should have been wrong wasn't. He was in almost no pain at all, he ached but there wasn't any true pain.

As his thoughts cleared Frerin stared up into the dim and wondered exactly how long he'd been sleeping for. Longer than should have been possible, that was without a doubt. He should have been dead, especially being left as he'd been. Instead he was healed much further than he should have been. He could already tell, even laying perfectly still, that his legs were set and mostly healed. The feeling in his toes gave evidence to that. He wiggled them in his boots to check again. Besides feeling foggy and exhausted beyond belief he was healed. Almost completely by the feel of it. He'd had enough injuries to tell.

Huffing out a slow breath Frerin closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings. The world this deep was mostly quiet and his earth sense told him that he was deeper in the earth than he'd ever been before, even in Erebor before it's fall. The feeling would have been awe inspiring except the taint that made the earth feel ill around him. No dwarf had been this deep in years, yet he could not enjoy it due to his circumstances. Pushing aside the pang that thought brought he focused on anything else he could sense. There was the drip of water close by but no other sound except the continuous in and out of a breeze. The air smelled rancid, like all things orcs touched, but there was also a hot smell in the air, like the molten tang of heated metal and the first flash of lightning. It reminded him vaguely of a smelting forge. 

Opening his eyes, Frerin squinted until his vision cleared as best as it possibly could. Dwarves had good vision, they had to to mine so deep in the earth, but Frerin wasn't used to this deep darkness with no outside source of light. Still, there was a faint blue gleam to the world around him, an almost magic glow to the edge of things. It was the only thing that made visibility possible at all. 

Still it took him a moment to focus on the distant ceiling, very high above him. As he did he spotted a rich shining vein of aquamarine twining across the the caverns roof. He stared, having never seen such a prominent and rich vein of the gem. It took a full minute of staring to realize that most of the glow was coming from the stones themselves. Which shouldn't have been possible. He was no miner but he knew that aquamarines didn't glow, not normally. 

With a sore grimace Frerin pulled himself to a sitting position, eyes still focused on the vein of blue-green stone. The vein was wide, obviously deep, and it zigzagged in an almost swirling pattern towards the wall to his left. He was pretty sure that wasn't considered typical either. It jagged down the wall, still glowing, until it reached a mound on the floor. The mound was large, bulging up from the stone floor and continuing around the cavern and around his back. It started small, perhaps as high as his knee and tapered up until it was many times over taller than he, before beginning to taper off again. Squinting in the dim, Frerin tried to get a better look at the odd rock formation. It looked like it started out white at the floor and then near the top some sort of dark stone or maybe moss grew along the hills ridge. Along this ridge the aquamarines ran, sparsely dotting the hill with beacons of blue-green light. 

Pulling himself painfully to his feet, Frerin grimaced as his legs ached and twinged. But he was too fascinated by the oddity of the stones to mind the pain. Taking a step he nearly tripped, not having felt the heavy shackle around the ankle of his boot. With a snarl he stared down at the chain, eyes following it back to a stake pinned into the cavern floor. He had perhaps fifteen feet of chain, which would never be enough to reach the wall and the glittering stones. He wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to touch them but his stubbornness had him turning his eyes back to the gems. That he should be instead trying to find a way out never crossed his mind.

With a scowl he studied the way the gems dotted along the odd ridge formation. They grew thick and strong from the ridge, almost like spikes. Grunting a little he realized that he would be able to reach one section of the ridge, near the thinnest section, which was behind him, if he stretched the chain all the way. Moving gingerly, with a bit of a limp, Frerin trekked the short distance. 

Grinning fiercely in victory, Frerin leaned over the nearest stone, which stood nearly level with his eyes. It was bright, but not blinding, the blue glow warm to his eyes. The gem formation jutted straight from the black stone and had a squared head, almost perfectly shaped. In fact, as he squinted at a few others, almost every single one of them was perfectly shaped. He didn't think he'd ever seen such beautiful gems, not even the legendary Arkenstone. Little crystals the size of his pinky finger were clustered at the base of this particular crystal and he reached out to touch his fingers to the stone. 

Only to find the stones warm under his touch, almost hot. Feeling a little shock jolt through his fingers, Frerin gasped a shuddering breath, suddenly finding his heart racing. A drawing, pulling, sucking sensation at the back of his mind that he'd been oblivious to before suddenly roared to life, nearly making his knees give out from under him. Frerin was immediately aware of the other mind living in the sensation, another soul living there with him, right there in his mind. He couldn't hear their thoughts but he could feel their pleasure and a sleepiness, like they'd just woken. As that registered in his mind the gems under his hand began to move, to rise.

Jerking back, Frerin tripped over his chain, sending himself sprawling on his back with a spark of pain. He ignored it, wide eyes focused on the 'ridge' which was rising from the very floor. His mind threw jumbled words like 'earthquake' and 'rock slide' at him but he only gaped, too stunned and confused to move. The ridge rose with a sensuous rolling motion that matched no earthquake or rock slide he'd ever seen in his life. As it rose it began to take a shape that made his very lungs empty and his heart scream.  
“Ah, the Golden One is awake at last.” The ringing chiming voice that Frerin realized he knew said as large blue eyes opened and turned, focusing on him. A gust of hot air blew over him from the creatures nostrils, smelling like molten metal and the gleam of blue aquamarine teeth as long as his arm caught his eyes. “You've been sleeping nigh on a month, Sweetling.”

As Frerin gaped in absolutely stunned horror at the second dragon he'd ever seen, he realized exactly what he'd done. He'd given his real true name to a dragon. A dragon. Dragon. DRAGON. A DRAGON. Horror pulsed through him, making his whole body tremble with shock as he gaped up at those huge eyes he remembered thinking were beautiful.

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Salanth woke instantly at the touch of her Treasure, feeling his small fingers tracing the gems that formed the crest along her neck. The jolt of his touch seared her right down to her soul, making her almost tremble in pleasure. She could feel his curiosity glowing at the edge of her mind and let herself bask for a moment in the glow of his mind, finally awake and free of pain. 

She'd been waiting for what seemed like an eternity for him to waken. She'd never passed a month in this dank horrid place so slowly in all her years here. Usually she slept a fair deal, to conserve energy and to avoid thoughts of the Filthy Ones. But over the last month she hadn't been able to make herself sleep longer than a few hours at a time. Not with her Treasure here for her to keep guard over. Although she was no Gold Hoarder, who were well known to have terrible terrible tempers, she found the very thought of her Treasure being hurt or uncomfortable left her in a furious temper. 

Taking a deep breath to clear her lungs Salanth began to lift her head, sensing rather than seeing her Golden One falling back. Perhaps he was shocked at her immense size. He had been fairly delirious when she'd linked them together. And she was rather impressive, she had to admit. Her gems were bright and clear and her scales gleaming. Her teeth were sharp and her claws strong. Just as she was pleased with her Golden One, he would surely be pleased with her as well.   
But perhaps he couldn't see clearly this deep in the earth? The thought gave her a moment of pause as she turned her head to study her gaping Hoard. She hadn't thought of that. Perhaps he didn't know what she was? Perhaps where he was from they didn't have dragons?

“Ah, the Golden One is awake at last.” She said, beginning to feel the inklings of fear from the Soul Bond. Was he afraid? She supposed it would be prudent for him to be afraid at first, she was rather big. “You've been sleeping nigh on a month, Sweetling.”

AN: Sorry it's been such a long time! I'm starting my own business and I have a two year old, lol, so busy busy busy. Hope you guys like it.


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